


A Life of Never-Weres

by sparklyfaerie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyfaerie/pseuds/sparklyfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, he thought it was going to be okay. Trapped in the alternate reality, cut off from the Universe he'd been born in, where he'd loved and lost, had spent so much of his life. He had Rose, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life of Never-Weres

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it. All rights to Doctor Who and affiliated products belong to the BBC and the other proper entities.

At first, he thought it was going to be okay. Trapped in the alternate reality, cut off from the Universe he'd been born in, where he'd loved and lost, had spent so much of his life. He had Rose, after all. And Jackie and Pete (and their new son, Tony), by extension. They made room for him in their home, Pete gaining him work at Torchwood as an expert in alien life.

He picked himself a name—he knew he couldn't go around with identification saying simply 'the Doctor'. Pete had greased quite a few palms to get him authentic I.D. and ingrain him in the system; there was no reason to be anonymous anymore. He picked the name John, because he was already used to answering to it—but he dropped the Smith. Instead, he chose the name Noble. "Donna helped create me. She's  _kind_  of like my mother." He'd said. Rose had laughed awkwardly, but accepted it without a fuss.

He and Rose spent their days working, most of the time. Now that Rose's chief project—the Dimension Cannon—was complete and non-functioning, she often helped him with his work. It wasn't anything exciting, just identifying and classifying alien objects that had come to Earth (he didn't ask if they were crash landings or shot down. He didn't want to know), but it reminded him every day that there was more to the Universe than the small bubble of a world he now lived in.

Eventually, he and Rose rented a flat across town from her parents. They spent their first two days unpacking everything, insisting to Pete that they didn't need any help, but thanks for the offer. They bickered about where to put the television for ten minutes before compromising and rearranging the rest of the living room furniture to accommodate it. The second night, exhausted, they curled up on the couch and watched Rose's favourite movie on one of the free-to-air channels. He annoyed her by spending half the movie telling stories about all the actors in it, from when he'd met them in the other dimension. Then they went to bed, and he dreamed of the TARDIS.

This wasn't uncommon—he dreamed of the TARDIS almost every night. He often wondered; about the Doctor—the proper, non-metacrisis Doctor—about the TARDIS. About where they were now, and what kind of civilisation they were saving or bringing crashing down. He wondered how Mickey and Martha were, and how Donna was getting on with her ordinary life (because he'd known that the Doctor would have had to erase her memory). He wondered about Sarah-Jane and her son—Luke, was it?—and all of his old friends. One night, after he'd woken up from dreaming about walking through stacks and stacks of books, he'd even wondered about the mysterious River Song—the woman who knew his name—and how the Doctor would get to know her. Another mystery he would never have the chance to solve.

He said nothing of it to Rose. Instead, they woke every morning, took turns in the bathroom (he quickly learned that he needed to be fast if he wanted a hot shower), ate toast and drank coffee, and then took the Tube to the office every day. Then they spent hours elbow-deep in alien junk until it was time to go home again.

Seven months into his new life, the pregnancy had come as a surprise. He hadn't even been aware that he would be capable of having children, being a hybrid. Then his life had shifted again, as Pete had forbidden his daughter to work in the office, the risk of radiation from some of the alien spaceships hanging around being dangerous to the baby. She'd pouted and complained, but John had talked her into it. At least, he said, until the baby was born and they could find a babysitter or send it to day care.

The pregnancy, though, had marked a change in Jackie. He'd always known her to be a bit of a fierce woman when it came to her daughter, but she had been downright frightening when she'd finally managed to corner him one evening, when Rose and Pete had taken Tony outside to look through the telescope.

"Now, you listen here." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You might be a clone or whatever—"

"Human-Timelord biological metacrisis." He corrected on reflex.

"—but you're still the Doctor," she ploughed on, ignoring him, "and I remember what you were like when Rose was travelling with you. Always running off and getting into trouble, dragging her into it." She jabbed him again. "Not anymore, you hear me, mister? If I find out that you're going around—causing trouble or getting into it, I don't care. If you put my daughter or grand-baby in danger, or if you ever leave them, I wont wait for any stinking Daleks or Cybermen to come along. I will hunt you down and I will kill you myself."

He believed her. "Yes Ma'am."

* * *

Time passed.

Everything changed again, when their daughter was born. They named her Michelle Donna Tyler-Noble, after Mickey and Donna. She was such a tiny thing, and Rose was so possessive of her. She had John's eyes and Rose's nose and his smile, Jackie's hair and Pete's ears. She was perfect, and he couldn't wait until she was older, so he could see exactly how much her Timelord DNA affected her development.

And then it actually,  _properly_  hit him for the first time, as he sat there with tears in his eyes, holding his newborn daughter: He'd have to get there the long way. Of course, hadn't that been exactly what the last year and a half had been  _about_? Functioning without the TARDIS—no more time travel, no more seeing the Universe. Just keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground and getting on with his—their—life. There would be no jumping forward to check—just to make sure that she would grow up happy and healthy.

Rose was, of course, ecstatic, holding the baby at every opportunity, only putting her down for sleep or to pass her to John or Jackie. She talked about how happy she was, how excited she was to be a Mum, and how they were going to make the best parents. And John felt horrible because—of course, he loved his new daughter as fiercely as any father would—but a part of him longed for his old TARDIS, for a life wandering amongst the stars, seeing them begin, seeing them end and seeing empires rise and fall, all within the span of a day.

He didn't say anything to Rose.

* * *

Years passed.

Rose eventually talked him into a wedding, and they became John and Rose Tyler-Noble. Michelle grew into a happy, healthy, clever child, and Rose insisted that John take the day off to see her off on her first day of school. He grinned proudly as she tugged her little hand away from Rose, hurrying to catch up with her friends from pre-school.

"I dunno what I'm gonna do with myself all day, now." Rose murmured, her head on his shoulder.

He shrugged, dislodging her. "You could always come back to work."

And she did. She worked shorter hours, though, coming in after dropping Michelle off at school and leaving early to pick her up. When John got home he sat with Michelle and pretended to help her do her homework—while smuggling her sweets from the shop down the road behind Rose's back.

His little girl was the only thing keeping him sane in this world. While he went about his day—waking up in the morning, showering, eating his breakfast and kissing his wife and daughter goodbye before leaving for work—thoughts of the TARDIS continued to hover in the back of his mind, teasing him. What planet was she landing on right now? What timezone? Did she still have the same desktop, or had the Doctor changed it by now? Did the man piloting it even look the same anymore, or had he regenerated? Did he have a new companion with him, someone to show the stars and share the wonders of the Universe with? He rather hoped so. He didn't like the thought of being alone. Hadn't even when he was still the Doctor.

Every night, he continued to dream of the TARDIS.

Still, he said nothing to Rose.

* * *

There were times when Donna came out in him more than others.

The biggest fight they'd ever had was when Michelle was seven. He couldn't even remember how it started, but one thing led to another, and soon he was shouting just like Donna, loud and abrasive, and accidentally hurtful without meaning to be but too angry to care. He'd shouted some choice words at her, sick of her harping on about… whatever it was, and grabbed his coat, slamming the door behind him. He shrugged it on and stomped down the street, heedless of the rain, not paying attention to where he was headed.

He never saw the car coming.

Pain erupted in his hip and head as the car sent him flying into the gutter. The rain was soothing, at least, he thought, as the fire raced up and down his side. He was vaguely aware of people shouting, milling around, and eventually the sound of the ambulance. None of it made an impression on him. The part of him that was Timelord could sense it: His time in this world was up.

So this was what it felt like to be really, properly dying, he thought hazily. He was vaguely aware of being lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled away. The pain was relieved, and he knew they'd given him some kind of sedative. That was fine—at least his last moments would be a little more comfortable. He'd even managed to hold on until they reached the hospital. He'd known it was over before the doctors had declared that there was nothing they could do but make him comfortable.

Rose had made it in time, Michelle being towed in behind her by Jackie and Pete, a ten year old Tony peeking out from behind his mother's leg. He could just see her through the haze, crying like nothing he'd ever seen before. He could feel her hand smoothing the hair back from his face, hear her broken voice, begging between sobs for him to be alright.

"You can't leave me." She sobbed. "Not again. Don't do this to me, Doctor." He managed a pained smile—she hadn't called him 'Doctor' since he'd adopted 'John'. "You can't leave me and Michelle alone. What're we gonna do without you?"

He tried to make his voice work, but couldn't manage more than a pained, broken whisper. Rose put her ear down to his mouth and managed to catch his words. " _Love you_."

"No! No!" Rose fluttered over him. "You can't!"

But he did. And, as he sunk into blissful oblivion, he imagined he could hear the groan of the TARDIS engines, and the voices of his Gallifreyan family, calling him home, with the laughter of his wife and daughter sending him on his way. And he would be there to call Rose and Michelle to him when it was time.

One life. That was all he'd been given. And he'd spent it with her.


End file.
